The arrival of the Order was accompanied by the calm type of confusion that Dallion had grown to expect. For the most part the people seemed vaguely intrigued, just as someone would be if a distant relative suddenly showed up on the door. On her part, the members of the order had annoyed contempt written all over their faces.

“I am Dame Vesuvia, here by order of his grace Archduke Lanitol,” the woman said loudly. It was impressive that her horse didn’t budge an inch as she did, as if it were made of marble. “Who is in charge of this village?”

Immediately a couple of people set off in the direction of the chief’s mansion. The rest of the crowd started whispering amongst themselves, all the while keeping a safe distance from the soldiers.

What are they doing here? Dallion wondered. As far as he could remember this had never happened before. The boy had some vague recollection of a temple monk passing through a few years back, but never before that there were soldiers, and certainly not a noble.

Eager to learn more the boy took a step forward. As he did, his mother grabbed him by the arm.

“Mom?” The boy arched both brows.

“Don’t go,” the woman whispered, gripping his sleeve tightly.

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“Don’t go,” she repeated.

“I am Aspion Luor,” the village chief said. His voice was twice louder than Dallion had heard him, though compared to the woman he sounded like a kitten trying to roar at a lion. “How may we serve the Archduke’s envoy?”

At the mention of the archduke, several of the soldiers smirked. A mixture of amusement and disgust covered their faces, not the Dame’s though. If anything, she remained on her mount with the determination of one who would see the world melt in flames before showing any emotion. Just looking at her made Dallion feel cold chills run down his spine.

“A chainling has been seen somewhere in this area. We are to hunt it down and kill it.” The Woman’s eyes narrowed. “How many awakened do you have?”

Awakened? Dallion’s heart skipped a beat.

“Not many.” Aspion’s hand trembled. Conscious of the fact, the chief quickly hid it behind his back. “This is a simple village, Dame. Most of the awakened are old without the necessary skills to—”

“How many?” The Dame’s voice sounded like granite being squeezed into a cocktail.

The village chief wavered. Dallion watched him transform from the majestic all powerful undisputed ruler of the village into a weak trembling old man.

“A dozen,” the chief whispered looking down at the ground. “Close to a dozen.”

“How many are fit?”

“Two, maybe three... but—”

“Three.” The Dame audibly sighed. It was clear she was hoping for more. “Get them armed and ready. We'll be heading out within the hour.”

“But, Envoy, none of us can leave the village? How will they accompany you?”

“There’s a cleric from the Order of Seven with us. He’ll see to that. All you need to do is bring them here. And bring some provisions and hay. Enough to last a week.”

“Yes, Dame.” Aspion bowed even lower.

Wow.

To say that Dallion was impressed was an understatement. In his heart he always knew that the nobles had to be more powerful than the chief, but even he didn’t expect such a difference in levels. What he wouldn’t give to have the ability to determine a person’s level by sight. Maybe he could ask directly? After all, he had to be one of the three awakened—the chief wouldn’t shy away from putting him in danger, also most of the other awakened knew were either too old, too young, or unsuited for fighting.

“Dallion,” his mother whispered. “Please don’t go.”

“I’ll be fine.” The boy smiled.

As much as it pained him seeing his mother in such a terrified state, he didn’t see himself as having a choice. His mother didn’t either, she slowly released her grip, letting her hand slide off Dallion’s sleeve.

“I promise I’ll be alright.”

“I know you’ll try.” The woman forced a smile on her face, through tears were still sparkling in the corners of her eyes. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”

Dallion nodded, then quickly followed the rest of the crowd as the soldiers made their way to the village square. In total there were twenty-one of them, most equipped with swords—proper swords, not the oversized dagger Dallion had to use in his awakened state—and chainmail armor. Near the end, though, there was a small group clad in leather armor. Judging by their somewhat confused state and cheap clothes, it could be assumed that they had been taken from other villages to help out with the hunt. There was one person, however, who was dressed in a dark blue robe.

That must be the cleric if I’d ever seen one, Dallion thought.

The hood kept the cleric’s face hidden, making it impossible to tell anything about him. The only other thing that stood out was that unlike everyone else, he didn’t seem to have any weapons, armor, or other gear.

“Hey, you!” one of the soldiers shouted at Dallion. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m an awakened?” The boy replied. Despite the impressive fashion in which the soldiers had arrived, Dallion still had some pride left.

The soldier didn’t even pause to reply, only snorted with a shake of his head, then kept walking on. Unperturbed, Dallion did so as well. A spark of arrogance had lit up in him for some reason, pushing him to show that he was no worse than anyone here, with the exception of the Dame, of course.

“What about you?” The boy asked loudly, short of yelling.

“It’s not worth it,” a large red-haired man in worn leather armor said. “You’ll be travelling with them for a while. Best not get them mad this early.”

If there was someone who could be described as a walking red bear, this man definitely was it. Not only was he one length taller and two wider than Dallion, but his head, face, and arms were covered in bright red hair as if he had implanted a furry crimson hoodie to his skin.

“Name’s Havoc,” the man said.

“Havoc?”

“Long story. My parents had a sense of humor. Other’s didn’t approve of it much. How about you?”

“Dallion. Dallion Seene.”

“Dallion.” Havoc made a serious expression. “Guess your parents had a sense of humor as well. What’s your level?”

“Three.” Saying out loud made Dallion feel instant regret again that he hadn’t managed to defeat the sand dragon. “You?”

“Used to be more, but I’m down to four now.”

The boy gaped at Havoc.

“Long story. Anyway, a piece of advice. Never pick a fight with a soldier. You’ll end up regretting it. Also, stay away from him.” The man glanced at the cleric. “You never know how humorous the Seven are feeling.”